


Property of Derek

by WyldeWombat (orphan_account)



Series: Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Drunk Stiles, First Meetings, M/M, Tattoo Artist Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 08:26:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5156930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/WyldeWombat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: “You can’t get tattooed drunk, come back in the morning and if you still want my name on your ass we’ll talk” AU</p><p>Stiles and Scott just graduated college. Stiles may or may not have had a little too much to drink, and he may or may not have dragged Scott into a wolf-friendly tattoo parlor to get tattoos, where he may or may not have encountered a gorgeous tattoo artist who should really just put his name on Stiles.</p><p>Yeah. That happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Property of Derek

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on [ this ](http://dailyau.tumblr.com/post/131874122534/you-cant-get-tattooed-drunk-come-back-in-the)prompt. Basically wolves are known, Stiles and Derek don't know each other, blah blah blah.
> 
> You can also follow me on tumblr [ here](http://cognizantcatastrophe.tumblr.com/)

“This is a fantastic idea!” Stiles crowed, one arm slung around Scott’s shoulders to hold himself up as they walked down the dimly lit street.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Scott asked, catching Stiles when Stiles tried to trip over his own feet. “I think you had a little too much to drink.”

“Nonsense,” Stiles laughed. “This is genius. What better way is there of celebrating your college graduation than getting tattoos with your best friend?”

“I _have_ been wanting to get one for Kira,” Scott mused. “You’ve never mentioned getting a tattoo. What do you want?”

“I dunno,” Stiles giggled drunkenly, bouncing in excitement when they rounded a corner and saw the tattoo shop they were looking for. Most places could tattoo wolves now, but very few places boasted that they actually had wolves doing the tattooing. Stiles couldn’t think of a better place to drag his best friend to. “I want something cool. Maybe I’ll get a skull. Skulls are cool! Oh, or maybe I’ll get a dragon!”

“Wait, you don’t even know what you want?” Scott asked as Stiles dragged him into Alpha Red Tattooing. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Of course I’m sure!” Stiles replied as they entered the shop. A smoking-hot girl with curly blonde hair and red lips leaned against the counter, staring at them with a raised eyebrow. Stiles bound up to her. “I want a tattoo. Scott does, too!”

“Right,” she smirked. “That’s shocking, coming into a tattoo place to get a tattoo.”

“I know, right?” Stiles replied boisterously as Scott ducked his head in embarrassment. “I’m a genius!”

The blonde laughed and turned her attention to Scott. “You’re a wolf and I only work on wolves, so if you want to follow me, I’ll give you a consultation. I’ll get the boss for your friend.”

Scott nodded and went to follow her through a door but paused just before he disappeared. He turned back to Stiles. “Are you sure you want to do this, buddy?”

“Yes, go!” Stiles said, nodding enthusiastically and making a shooing motion with his hands. “Go away!”

Scott frowned but he nodded and followed the blonde. Stiles turned his attention to the many drawings on the walls, spinning in a circle to try to take them all in. Eventually, he spun a little too fast. He laughed when he fell into a wall. “Oops.”

“Are you okay?”

“That’s weird,” Stiles giggled to himself. “Walls that talk. This place is cool.”

Stiles felt himself being turned around and then he was looking at the wall he fell into. “You’re not a wall,” Stiles said, poking the firm chest of Mr. Tall, Dark and Mysterious. The man rolled his eyes.

“No, I’m not a wall. Erica said you wanted a tattoo.”

“Yes! I want that! But who’s Erica? I came with Scott. Did something happen to Scott? Oh my God, is Scott a girl, now? Is it some weird mutation with his wolf? Did he-“ Stiles kept trying to talk, despite the hand now covering his mouth, but the words were muffled.

“Erica is the blonde girl your friend went with for a consultation. I’m here to do a consultation for you, if you want a tattoo.”

Stiles’ eyes widened.

“I’m going to move my hand, and you’re just going to tell me if you want a tattoo or not. A yes or a no is fine.” The man removed his hand from over Stiles’ mouth, looking at him warily as though he thought Stiles were a bomb waiting to explode.

Stiles looked the man up and down before batting his eyelashes at the man. “You can consult me _any_ time.”

The man’s eyes flashed a quick red before he let out an exasperated groan. “Just follow me to the consultation room.”

Stiles practically floated after Mr. Sexy, keeping his eyes on the man’s ass almost the entire way to the consultation room. In fact, that was the only reason he didn’t bump into the man when he stopped.

Stiles was pushed into a chair at a table, and then Mr. Nice Ass sat across from him. He grabbed a piece of paper, a pencil, and then looked at Stiles. “So, what is it you want to get a tattoo of?”

Stiles ignored him in favor of spinning gleefully in the chair the man had pushed him into. He stuck his hand out to catch the chair, bringing Stiles’ fun to an abrupt stop. Stiles frowned.

“I told Erica not to buy those damn chairs for the clients,” Derek muttered.

“I’m Stiles. What’s your name?”

The man closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the air out slowly. He then opened his eyes and stared. “I’m Derek. Now, Stiles, what do you want a tattoo of?”

“Derek.”

“What?”

“No. I want Derek. I’d prefer it on my ass.”

Derek blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Dude. I want you to put your name on my ass. You know, like a ‘Property of Derek’ kind of thing?” Stiles said, blinking rapidly.

Derek ran a hand down his face. “I’m not putting a tattoo on your ass of my name.”

“Why not?” Stiles replied, crossing his arms expectantly. “I have money. I’m a paying customer, dude.”

“Dude,” Derek replied snarkily, “You’re drunk. I’m not giving you a tattoo tonight regardless, but I’ll draw one up for you and then you can come back if you still want it.”

“But I do want it! I want all of it!” Stiles pouted, pausing as he gave Derek another once-over. “And I do mean _all_ of it.”

Derek’s eyes flashed again before he immediately closed them. He took several long, slow breaths. When he finally opened his eyes again, they were back to normal. “Look,” Derek replied slowly, “I’m not giving you a tattoo while you’re drunk. If you really want my name on your ass, come back in the morning.”

“So if I still want you all up on my ass in the morning, you’ll do it?” Stiles smirked.

Derek’s fists clenched. “Just come back in the morning if you still want a tattoo, okay?”

“Deal,” Stiles said, spinning in his chair enthusiastically. He went pale and Derek’s eyes widened as he snatched up the trash can, shoving it under Stiles’ chin just in time to keep Stiles from vomiting all over the table.

Against his better judgement, Derek made his way around the table (while taking extra care to keep the trash can in place) and over to Stiles. Stiles groaned miserably and Derek knelt next to him and ran his hand slowly up and down Stiles’ back.

“Thanks,” Stiles gasped when he finally stopped vomiting and Derek had put the trashcan on the floor. He looked up at Derek and blinked a few times before passing out. Derek barely managed to catch him before he fell out of the chair.

Once again ignoring his better judgement, Derek pulled Stiles out of the chair and carried him over to the small futon in one corner of the room. He placed Stiles on the futon and brushed some hair out of his eyes, frowning when he felt an electric jolt shoot through him at the skin-on-skin contact. That wasn’t supposed to happen. That was definitely _not_ supposed to happen.

Sighing and shaking his head, Derek grabbed the trash bag and tied it closed. He put a new trash bag in and put the can next to Stiles just in case, before making his way into the hallway.

Derek stuck his head into Erica’s consultation room and found her hunched over a piece of paper, hand flying as she drew, while Scott babbled on and on about how wonderful Kira was. Derek cleared his throat and they both looked up. “Your friend passed out in my consultation room.”

“What’s that smell?” Erica asked, wrinkling her nose.

Derek held up the trash bag. “He was spinning in those damn chairs you insisted on buying, and then he threw up. As soon as he did that, he passed out.”

Erica burst out laughing and Scott grinned sheepishly. “Sorry,” he said. “I tried not to bring him, but we just graduated today and he wanted to celebrate. He’s a really persistent drunk.”

“That’s an understatement.”

Erica smirked. “What’s the matter, Derek? Can’t handle a drunk little human?”

Derek growled and slammed the door shut.

* * *

Stiles groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. His head was absolutely throbbing. “Scott,” he whined, pulling his pillow over his head.

“Hey, you’re awake. Want some Aspirin?”

“Please,” Stiles begged. He opened his eyes blearily as Scott placed some Aspirin, water, and a few pieces of toast next to Stiles’ bed. “Dude, I knew you were my best friend for a reason.”

“I better be, after I had to carry you home.”

Stiles frowned as he took a bite of some toast. “You carried me home? Like, literally?”

“Yes, literally,” Scott huffed. “You passed out at the tattoo shop.”

“Tattoo?” Stiles squeaked, sitting up and pulling off his shirt. “Where?” he said, frantically searching himself for any new ink.

“You didn’t get one. Derek told you he wouldn’t give you one when you were drunk and you’d have to come back in the morning.”

Stiles stared in confusion. “Derek?”

“Yeah,” Scott replied. “Derek was the guy at the tattoo shop you talked to. Did something happen? He kept asking me if I’d be okay taking you home and if you needed anything. He was really concerned.”

“I don’t remember,” Stiles frowned. “Why would some random guy be worried about some random drunk guy?”

“I figured something happened between you two, honestly,” Scott shrugged. “You kept telling me about how hot he was and how you wanted to… uh….” Scott’s cheeks suddenly became extremely red and he refused to meet Stiles’ eyes.

“I wanted to what?” Stiles prodded. Scott shook his head, and Stiles glared. “What? Scott, what did I say? Tell me!”

“You said you wanted to have his babies!”

Suddenly it was Stiles’ cheeks that were turning red. “I didn’t hit on him, did I? Was he really that hot? God, he’s probably way out of my league.”

“I don’t know, but he kept asking if I thought you’d come back this morning until Erica started making fun of him. Then he just stormed off.”

“Erica?”

“She works there with him. She did my consultation on my tattoo for Kira.”

“Oh, let me see!” Stiles screeched, lunging at Scott.

“Dude, I didn’t get it yet! She’s drawing a few designs and I’m supposed to go in next week and pick one,” Scott said, shoving Stiles off.

“Damn,” Stiles shrugged. “So you said Derek was hot?”

“Dude!”

“I’m just asking,” Stiles yelled, holding his hands up innocently. “But seriously, though.”

“Just go down there yourself,” Scott growled, blushing, as he stormed out of the room.

* * *

“Awe, you came back!”

Stiles gave a shy smile at the pretty blonde standing behind the counter of Alpha Red Tattooing. “I guess you’re Erica?”

“I sure am, Cutie,” Erica replied, giving Stiles an exaggerated wink. “So, do you still want a tattoo?”

“Uh…”

“You came back.”

Stiles turned towards a new voice and came face to face with the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. “Uh…” he said again, blinking dumbly.

“I think he likes you, Der,” Erica snickered.

Derek glared at Erica and flashed his eyes at her. Erica just continued to smirk, completely unabashed. “Stiles,” Derek said, turning his gaze away from the blonde. “Follow me.”

Stiles nodded rapidly, tripping over his own feet and straight into Derek’s chest in his haste. His arms blazed beneath Derek’s hands as they steadied him. “Sorry!” he squeaked. “Dude. You’re like hitting a brick wall. Do you work out? That’s a stupid question. Of course you do.”

Derek shook his head. “I guess it wasn’t the alcohol,” he muttered, much to Erica’s glee judging by the eruption of laughter coming from her direction.

“What?” Stiles asked as Derek put an arm around his shoulders and led him into the consultation room. Stiles was shoved into a chair on one side of a table and Derek made his way to the chair on the other side.

Derek leaned back and leveled Stiles with a serious gaze. “Why are you here, Stiles?”

“What do you mean?” Stiles asked, fidgeting nervously. “This is a tattoo place.” Derek didn’t say anything, and Stiles got more nervous. He finally sat on his hands to make himself sit still, although as soon as his hands stopped moving, his feet wouldn’t be still. He started tapping out random rhythms, and Derek sighed and shook his head.

“Please tell me you don’t still want my name tattooed on your ass.”

“Say what, now?” Stiles squeaked. No, he yelled, damn it. Men don’t squeak.

“Last night, you insisted I should tattoo my name on your ass.”

“Dude, thank you so much for not doing that,” Stiles groaned, putting his face in his hands. “God. I should just go. I’ve humiliated myself in front of hot werewolves enough for… well… for the rest of my life, I think.”

Stiles stood up and turned towards the door, but before he could take a step, Derek had made his way around the table and had his hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “Wait.”

Stiles ducked his head, but he refused to turn around. “Seriously, just let me go wallow in my humiliation, okay?”

Derek turned Stiles around until Stiles was facing him. He gently placed one finger under Stiles’ chin and applied gentle pressure until Stiles was meeting his gaze. Stiles bit his lip nervously, and he blushed when Derek stroked a thumb over Stiles’ lip.

“Last night, when I touched you, I felt something,” Derek murmured.

“Well, considering how high on the smoking scale you are, it was probably my-“

Derek wrapped one hand around Stiles’ waist and pulled so the two were flush against each other and pressed his mouth against Stiles’ before Stiles could say anything more. Stiles groaned and threw one arm around Derek’s shoulder, the other weaving its way into his hair.

“Do you ever stop talking?” Derek gasped into the kiss, making his way along Stiles’ jaw and over to his ear. He nipped at Stiles’ earlobe playfully.

“Nuh… um… no?”

Derek snorted in amusement. “Look, you know I’m a wolf,” Derek said, running his tongue around the shell of Stiles’ ear, pulling a shiver out of the man in his arms. “Wolves are supposed to have all these potential mates, and when we come in contact with them, there is a spark. It doesn’t guarantee we’ll work, but…” He pulled back and tilted his head, studying Stiles. “Go on a date with me.”

“What?” Stiles gaped. “Dude. Are you serious?” Stiles blushed when Derek didn’t answer, merely raising one eyebrow expectantly. “Yes! Of course! I mean, are you sure?”

“Just say yes or no, Stiles.”

“Yes!”

“Good,” Derek growled, pulling Stiles back in for another kiss. “Let’s go.”

“Now?” Stiles asked as Derek weaved their fingers together, pulling Stiles out of the room.

“Yes,” Derek said. He paused on his way towards the door and looked back at Erica, who was smirking at them from behind the counter. “Close up. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” She sang after them.

“Hey, Derek,” Stiles said as Derek led him into the street. “If this sparky thing ends up working, does this mean I’m still going to end up with ‘Property of Derek’ tattooed on my ass?”


End file.
